


Arthur, the Muggle

by thegodmachine



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, First Meetings, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-12
Updated: 2016-05-09
Packaged: 2018-05-13 12:22:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 4,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5707945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegodmachine/pseuds/thegodmachine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur is a muggle. </p><p>Arthur doesn't know what that is, but Eames uses all sorts of strange words.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Taken from this prompt list: [wizard AU where one accidentally apparates into the wrong house](http://fanficy-prompts.tumblr.com/post/77864674684/au-ideas)
> 
> I was gonna right a longish fic, but I think I'll try to do a collection of small moments between these two characters.

Arthur might have been a bit drunk. But that was okay, it was Saturday and school wasn’t until...Arthur was too tired to remember. Instead, he staggered, hopelessly up to his front door, nearly tripping over a crack in the pavement and fiddled with his keys. The quicker he unlocked his door, the faster he could fall asleep.

His roommate was still at the party so Arthur was welcomed by a dark empty flat. He didn't bother flicking on a light but instead felt his way to his bedroom—any bedroom really—and collapsing into a bed.

He thought he might have been asleep so he didn't immediately respond to the sound of dishes crashing. That had to be his roommate Fischer. He moaned into his pillow and squeezed it closer to his body. God, Fischer, shut up.

Fischer didn't shut up so Arthur crawled out from his bed and shuffled down the hall to the kitchen. Did Fischer have a flashlight? The kitchen was still mostly dark other than the person standing in the middle who was lit up by a dim light coming from something in their grip.

"Robert, what are you..."Arthur turned on the light and froze. That wasn't Fischer.

The man in his kitchen was broader than Fischer could ever hope to be and while Fischer's face was the king of cheekbones, this man's was the king of lips because ‘good God’...And he was holding a wooden stick.

"Nox," the man said and the light emanating from the stick flickered out. "I was wondering how you muggles lit up a room."

"Who the hell are you?" Arthur asked. "You're not Fischer."

"Yes it would appear I am not a...fish," the man said puzzled and amused by Arthur.

"What?" Arthur asked confused. "No, Fischer is my..." He was too drunk for this. "Are you robbing me? Because the most valuable things in this flat are my textbooks...and the kitchenware...That shit is expensive."

"No, Darling," the man said. "I simply appear to have stumbled into the wrong house."

"Yeah?" Arthur asked. "Most Probably."

"Sorry to interrupt your sleep."

Arthur frowned at him.

"And don't worry, Darling, when you wake up, you will 'most probably' attribute this to a dream so sweet dreams." He shook his stick around and simply popped out of existence.

"What?" Arthur mumbled aloud to the empty kitchen. "Still too drunk."


	2. Chapter 2

There was a man in the tube and he looked very familiar. Arthur had been staring at him for the past five minutes. He was dressed strangely (there was a lot of purple going on there) but Arthur supposed he was a stage actor. He had seen plenty of costumed actors in this city. The man had familiar shoulders which was quite the goofy thought when he thought about it. Familiar shoulders, pshh.

The man turned around and Arthur caught sight of his profile. That nose...those lips...

It was him!

But it had been a dream, hadn't it? Arthur had dreamed about this man and now he was real! But that couldn't be it. Arthur must've met him before and his face stayed with him. Maybe Arthur had met him at that party. Arthur had fallen drunk pretty quick and didn't remember much from that night but maybe this strangely dressed man had been there.

Arthur tried to squeeze through the crowd but time worked against him as a train arrived and crowds became thicker. He caught sight of the man's ridiculous purple garment disappearing into the train. Arthur elbowed a person out of his way ("Manners," the man yelled) in pure roller derby-fashion in his desperation to get into the same train compartment and just as he stepped on, the doors closed behind him.

Looking around, Arthur studied each face but none had those marvelous lips. There was a glimpse of purple at one of the train, which caused his heartbeat to rise but it turned out to be a young girl in a purple sweater.

Arthur swallowed disappointment. The man had been a dream; a pure figment of his imagination. Clearly he was seeing things and maybe he should relax in his studies if these hallucinations continued. Clearly he was overworking himself with his school load. Once exams were done, he'd be able to ease back into normal-Arthur who didn't imagine a purple-dressed man at odd points in his life.

* * * 

Arthur was waiting for the train again. He had his headphones on listening to Mew as a small reward to himself for finishing his last exam. It was a great feeling today, knowing he could go home and watch TV, though tonight was Question Time and Robert had become a bit fanatical about that show. Arthur supposed he wouldn't want to be in the same room as him when it came on. Maybe he'd go out instead.

The train arrived and Arthur flowed with the crowd into a compartment. His music wasn't loud, and so he heard a commotion behind him and a disgruntled voice yell "manners!" What surprised him was someone tugging on his shoulder.

Arthur turned around and saw him: The man from his dream. He was dressed strangely, though no purple this time. Arthur tugged his headphones out, music still blaring.

"It's you..."


	3. Chapter 3

_"It's you..."_

Arthur was taken so unaware that he wasn't sure which of them might've spoken. The man relaxed his grip on his shoulder but then seemed to realize he shouldn't be touching Arthur and removed himself.

Arthur blinked.

"You're the man from..." He trailed off. It hadn't been a dream though he remembered strange things from that night. Maybe he was half asleep or the strangeness of that night was all a product of drunken hallucinations. Either way, it was a relief. He wasn't going crazy.

"And you're the muggle..." the stranger said than stopped awkwardly. He gave Arthur a smile he supposed was trying to be charming. "Sorry about breaking into your house that night. My name is Eames by the way."

Arthur liked that name.

"Mine's Arthur," he said. They shook hands awkwardly.

"Arthurrr," he purred, and no, Arthur didn't shiver at the sound of his name on this man's lips. "Arthur, by the sound of your accent, I can tell you're not from around here."

"No, I'm studying here," Arthur explained. "I have a focus in literature."

Eames looked interested though Arthur was sure it was all boring. Shakespeare, the Bronte sisters, Dickens: he knew he was a bit stereotypical.

"What about you? By your clothes, I'm guessing an actor?" He tried for a joke.

Eames looked down at his outfit. He was wearing a dark grey vest, nice trousers, and a long fancy coat unlike any you'd find in a department store. Eames looked confused and Arthur felt his stomach sink. Had he offended him?

"An actor? No, I own a bookshop."

"I don't know many bookshop owners who dress like this?"

Eames shrugged. "Well there are not many bookstore owners like me, I'd say."


	4. Chapter 4

Arthur had an uncle on his father's side who visited once when Arthur was nine and his brother was eleven. They never knew their father and their mother never spoke of him. In fact, her face went carefully blank when she found the man on her door step.

Alexander, Arthur's brother, had tugged on Arthur's hand and they entered the sitting room. Mom was serving coffee to the man who proclaimed to be their uncle.

"I don't like you coming here," she said softly.

"Mom?" Alexander said and their attention settled on the two young boys by the kitchen entrance.

"Alexander, take your brother outside," she said.

"Mom, who is this man?" Alexander asked.

Mom didn't look happy.

"Charlotte," the man said softly in an English accent. "You know this needs to be done."

She sighed. "I know," she mumbled and then sighed. "Alexander, why don't you come in here."

Alexander walked into the living room eager to be apart of the adults' conversation. Arthur naturally followed but mom gently touched his shoulder.

"Go up stairs, Arthur," she said. "Alexander can play with you later."

"But mom!" He cried out not understanding why he couldn't be apart of the conversation.

"Do as I say, Arthur," she said. Arthur knew not to argue with her and nodded stiffly. He turned and began to climb the steps but then got a clever idea to sit at the top of the steps where no one would see him and listen in.

"Hello, Alexander," the man said. "I'm your Uncle Franklin. I'm your father's brother."

"Hi," Alexander sounded shyly.

"We have a lot in common, the two of us," he said. "You take after your father's family."

"I never knew my father," Alexander said.

"I know...do you want to see something cool?" Uncle Franklin asked. Arthur didn't hear Alexander respond but he must've nodded because their uncle spoke again. "Wingardium Leviosa!"

There was a gasp in the room. Arthur wished he had the courage to peek into the room and see what happened but he didn't want his mother to see him.

"I forgot what it was like to witness this," their mother said.

"That...whoa," Alexander said.

What were they talking about? Arthur finally grew impatient and peered down into the living room. The commotion had ended and he felt frustrated and left out. Instead, he watched as his uncle handed Alexander a stick.

"You can do that too. Here, do as I say—"

"Arthur!" Arthur perked up. His mother had caught him. He quickly ran to his room and closed the door and pretended he had been there the hold time. A few minutes later, his mother opened the door and closed it behind her. "Arthur, why didn't you listen to me?"

He shrugged. "I wanted to meet him."

"And you will, baby," she said. "But, after he speaks to your brother."

"But why?" He whined.

"Arthur," she warned. "It's very important and private what they're discussing and you were spying. I taught you better than that."

Arthur blushed. "I just wanted to know."

She nodded. "Maybe one day you will."

* * *

Alexander left home that night with their uncle. Mother explained his disappearance as his going to a boarding school abroad. Arthur learned it was a school in the UK and that it was the school of his father. Arthur wanted to go too but his mother said he wasn't old enough. Alexander came home in the summer and already Arthur could tell he was different. He went by Alex now and had a slight accent. It actually angered Arthur to hear it. This wasn't the Alexander he knew. Why would he want to go to a school so far from home? They tried to get into the groove of being brothers again but there was a part of Alex that was kept away from Arthur from that point on. He didn't talk about school or his friends and Arthur worried that the secret was that he wasn't his brother at all. He asked his mother and she laughed but it sounded like a cry.

"Oh, baby, he's still your brother," she said. "You'll understand one day."

Arthur didn't think he would. 

* * *

When Arthur was eleven his elusive uncle made a reappearance. He greeted Alex familiarly but Arthur didn't know him. He hadn't seen him since he came for his brother all those years ago.

The setting was familiar but this time all of them sat in the sitting room. His uncle and brother sat next to each other, both dressed ridiculously. Arthur didn't understand why his brother had taken to wearing fancy bathroom robes these past few years but now Arthur could see his uncle dressed the same way. Arthur and his mother sat on the couch next to each other and he felt mild kinship with her.

"Hello, Arthur," Uncle Franklin greeted.

"Uncle Franklin," he nodded awkwardly.

"It's been a while, hasn't it my boy?" He asked. Arthur nodded. He swallowed nervously. He could feel that something big was about to happen.

"There's something I'd like to show you," he reached into his strange clothes and pulled out a stick. He pointed it at the coaster on the coffee table. "Watch this, Wingardium Leviosa!"

The coaster began to levitate. It took Arthur a moment to realize he was seeing something extraordinary. He felt the air leave his lungs and for a moment he pondered what he was seeing was real magic.

"How are you doing that?" He asked. He looked at his brother who was smiling widely.

"Pretty cool, huh?" He asked.

Arthur nodded.

"Would you like to try it?" His uncle asked. He handed Arthur his stick—wand. "Flick and swish your wand like this," he made a hand motion, "and say ‘Wingardium Leviosa’!"

Arthur did as instructed. "Wingardium Leviosa!"

Nothing happened. He tried again and collected feedback from his uncle, still nothing.

"It's not working," He said.

His uncle's eyes became shielded and smiled genially but it was less warm now. Alex looked crushed and his mother had a range of emotions in her face. She wrapped an arm around his shoulder and squeezed.

"You take after me, I guess," she mumbled and kissed his ear.

"How did you do it?" He asked his uncle feeling a little put out.

"A magician never reveals his tricks," he said.

Arthur felt humiliation burn through him. He must have looked really stupid just then thinking he could make a coaster actually levitate. Alex always did call him gullible. Arthur leaned back into the couch as pleasantries were exchanged in the most awkward afternoon of his life. He drifted out of the conversation, his mind focused on the magic trick. How had his uncle done it?

Not much later, His uncle left and Arthur never saw him again. His brother and he slowly became more distant as they grew older and eventually his brother moved to the UK permanently. That might have been why Arthur chose to go to college over there. But still, he never did call his brother and tell him of his arrival.


	5. Chapter 5

"I don't believe you..." Arthur laughed.

"No, it's true!" Eames urged but he had a wide smile on his face and a glint in his eyes.

"There's no way this is your first time on the tube, you live in London!"

"I've never gone about it the muggle way," Eames said.

They had ridden the train to Arthur's stop, and he led Eames towards the exit. Arthur was certainly no social butterfly and it was not like him to strike up conversation with someone he just met on the tube but Eames fascinated him. He was literally the man of his dreams until he tugged on Arthur's shoulder and became real...

And there was certainly no way Arthur could imagine his level of strangeness.

He had a weird way of talking. What did 'muggle' even mean and why did he sometimes call Arthur that? He couldn't decide if he should be offended or not. Eames also seemed to be so confused by little things. He told Arthur that he wanted to learn about muggle trains—there's that word again—and that was why he was there though he didn't really understand how they worked. Arthur tried to explain tickets and passes but then Eames got distracted by the metal bars that prevented entry.

"How are these supposed to prevent people from getting onto the station?" He asked.

"...they block your way?" Arthur said confused.

"But couldn't you just climb over it?" He asked and Arthur grabbed his arm to prevent him from demonstrating.

"No, it's just the rules and people follow them. Honor code, y’know?" He said. He pushed his pass through and the bar dropped. Arthur shoved Eames forward.

"I've always been curious about muggle magic," Eames said.

"Muggle magic?" He asked. He tugged Eames up the stairs up to the topside of London.

"Elegrity," Eames explained and Arthur couldn’t help but snort.

"Do you mean ‘electricity’?" Arthur asked. Maybe English wasn't his first language.

"Yes! That sounds right," Eames nodded. "I always thought it was phenomenal."

"You work in a bookstore; there are probably books on Thomas Edison or Nikolai Tesla."

"I've read briefly about Tesla. It's why I'm interested in muggle things so much..."

"Why do you say that word? Muggle? You've said it several times. What does it mean?" He asked.

Eames glanced over at him and then his eyes flickered passed him. "Do you want something to drink? I could go for some tea right now."

Arthur frowned at the weird, maybe crazy, man he was walking with. He couldn’t help but feel frustrated. He hated feeling like something was being kept from him. It was just a stupid word. But that feeling suddenly compounded by the fact his companion dressed so strangely...he suddenly felt uncomfortable with him. There was something going off in the back of his head and he was settling into a strange mood because of it.

"No, I think I should go," he frowned. He was crazy to even entertain Eames as long as he did. In fact, Eames was the root of all Arthur's craziness these past week and he needed a deep cleanse.

"Wait!" Eames called. "We were getting on alright, I thought."

"It's getting late," Arthur said uncomfortably.

"It's 4," Eames said. “Just one drink?”

Arthur but his lip then relented and nodded. He knew this wasn't a good idea. Arthur never talked to strangers, let alone drink tea with them. He stared at Eames as he gestured to a cafe nearby and took in his ridiculous clothes or 'bathrobes' he had bitterly called it as a child. Alex dressed like this. 'Bathrobes' must be in fashion in Britain.

They sat down at a corner booth and Arthur barely had time to wrap his head around the menu when he remembered something from earlier.

'Muggle magic', he had said.

 


	6. Chapter 6

_'Muggle magic,' he had said._

They ordered tea and Arthur waited in awkward silence for his tea to set, wondering what there was to talk about with a total stranger...though, Eames technically wasn't a stranger. They had first met when Eames had somehow managed to break into Arthur's flat.

"What we're you doing that night?" He asked and then looked up when he realized he had spoken aloud.

Eames was plunging his tea pouch than glanced at Arthur. "I was practicing my apparition license and I found myself popping into your home."

"Apparition?" Arthur asked.

"It's a form of travel that my kind uses," he must've found his tea drinkable as he took a large sip of his tea.

Arthur wondered what his face looked like.

"Your kind?" He asked.

"Yes, my kind...I really shouldn't be telling you this but I've never been one for following rules. I'm a wizard. I can do magic," he said.

Arthur paused than laughed, giving Eames an eye roll. Of course! Of course, the man was teasing him. With the way he dresses, he was sure to have a wicked sense of humor. Arthur had been the fool many a time having not picked up on sarcasm from his friends here before and was finding himself quite sensitive to figuring other people's humor. "I can do magic too," he said and Eames looked intrigued.

"But I thought you were a muggle...?" Eames asked confused. "You're a wizard too?"

"Well...in America, we would use the term Magician." Arthur pulled a coin from his pocket and closed it in his fist and made it disappear, waving an empty hand. Eames gave him a confused look and Arthur made it reappear behind his ear. "Tadaah!"

 Eames gave Arthur a weird look and Arthur dropped the coin into his palm.

"You look unimpressed," Arthur said when Eames continued to look confused. "I never said I was particularly good at it and I only know a few tricks...am I rambling? Sorry, I ramble sometimes." Arthur sighed awkwardly then drank his tea to distract himself.

"Magician?" Eames said. "I've heard of that, that's a muggle thing."

Arthur flushed. Had he botched the trick that bad? God he was such fool.

"Oh Arthur," Eames chuckled and closed his hand around the coin. "You really are something."

"My uncle is a magician..." Arthur shrugged. "I tried to teach myself."

"Thank you," Eames said though what he meant by that, Arthur didn't know.

He wondered what tricks Eames knew, but Eames seemed to look around at the people scattered about them and Arthur had a quick thought that Eames was bored of him already. Eames turned his attention back to him and gave him a smile that lit up his whole face. Arthur thought it was magical.


	7. Chapter 7

"What is this?" Arthur asked Robert. The two of them were watching a movie, and Arthur was trying to crochet a scarf for his mother with turtle designs—she had an affinity for turtles, which Arthur inherited. Would it be dorky if he crocheted a matching one for himself?

Robert had been sitting beside him on the sofa but had gotten up to make some popcorn. Something had fallen from his pocket that caught Arthur's attention: a wooden stick. His first thought was that it was a crochet needle and felt mild excitement at the thought he might have a crochet-buddy, but that was only because he had yarn and turtles on the brain. In fact, he hoped Robert didn't crochet; that would be awful. Robert would want to share yarn. He made a face at the thought. Arthur didn't share yarn.

The stick actually looked something like a homemade drumstick but that was also a dumb thought. A wand maybe? Arthur had gone to high school with a kid who wore a cape. He had an ongoing RPG with others in the library during lunch, and Arthur watched while simultaneously trying to speed through his algebra homework. He never picked Robert as the role playing type.

Robert gave Arthur a questioning look before glancing at the stick. Arthur leaned forward and picked it up before Robert seemed to process what Arthur was asking him. It was very light...Robert grabbed the wand from him.

"It's just something I picked up earlier. It's garbage," he said.

Arthur could tell he was lying, but he nodded anyway. Robert disappeared into their kitchen, and Arthur tried to push any suspicious thoughts from the forefront of his mind. He made an effort to continue the next row of his scarf before he dropped his hands into his lap in mild frustration.

Robert had a wand.

Eames said he was wizard.

Arthur's uncle...

He must be crazy; trying to see patterns where there were none.


	8. Chapter 8

****While Arthur knew Eames to be a real person, in many ways, he was still very much the imaginary friend Arthur had at first mistook him for two weeks ago upon meeting him. He had a strange way of popping in and popping away. Sometimes Arthur would look away mid goodbye and when he turned back, Eames was already gone. It was all very dreamlike and to be honest, Arthur didn't really know what he was doing with the strange man...aside from right now. Arthur knew exactly what he was doing.

Right now, Eames was very real. Very real on top of Arthur with very real kisses and very real hands tugging at the buttons of his shirt. And Arthur was very capable under his hands, moving his body and touching Eames in ways that made the other man moan.

Eames had been apart of Arthur's life for the past two weeks and Arthur was hard pressed to say what had evolved their relationship to this point but—with only two weeks of knowing each other—in which Arthur would allow Eames into his bedroom and let him kiss him.

Eames was so strange and not the type of person Arthur would seek out on his own time which is why Eames seemed like such a breath of fresh air. Right now Eames' mouth was attached to his neck and his hand was under his shirt. Arthur moaned and arched his back which prompted Eames to conquer his lips again.

There was a noise coming from outside Arthur's bedroom, it was probably Fischer. Fischer was always loud. He tried to ignore it...it was actually quite easy to do that when Eames' mouth demanded a lot of attention.

"Arthur!" Fischer yelled and slammed Arthur's door open without knocking or waiting for Arthur's acquiescence. "Whoah!"

Arthur jumped and Eames stopped kissing him to look over his shoulder at Fischer. Arthur could barely see his roommate from this angle or Eames' face.

"Fischer! Beat it!" He cried, blushing furiously.

"Arthur! Warn a guy, first!" Fischer cried and covered his eyes, though Arthur and Eames were still (mostly) clothed. Arthur sighed at his roommate, who by the way hadn't knocked when he barged in.

"We're kind of busy right now..." Arthur said trying to hide behind Eames.

"Yeah I can tell...I'll just, yeah..." Fischer walked out of Arthur's bedroom and closed the door. The moment was broken though and Arthur and Eames just stared at each other.

"So that's the elusive roommate?" Eames asked as he rolled to Arthur's side. Arthur thought that was funny since Eames was more elusive than Robert but nodded.

"He's a very 'disregarding' type of person," Arthur explained. "I think in his head, I'm supporting cast in his very own Truman show."

Arthur has grown use to Eames and could recognize the confused expression. Eames must not have seen that movie...or slept through all of the 90s. Would he know about Good Burger? Or who loves orange soda? (If you answered 'Kel' you would be correct.) Arthur really didn't know with him. Trying to figure Eames out required too much energy and Arthur was spent at this moment.

"I should probably go talk to Robert; I can feel his energy from here. He won't settle down until he tells me what he needs to tell me." Even though Arthur said this, he didn't want to get up.

"Come on, love," Eames said. "Go introduce me to your roommate."

"I think he's quite familiar with you already," Arthur sighed. He crawled out from under Eames' furnace-like body and buttoned his shirt. He watched Eames straighten his cloak properly. Eames called his long coat a cloak and sometimes he wore a long dress-like garb he called a robe and most times, Arthur learned, Eames wore mismatched clothing that really didn't go together. Arthur longed to dress him but kept that to himself. He didn't want to come across like he had a fetish or worse, like he disapproved.

They entered the main room where Robert was making himself comfortable on the sofa with a bowl of cereal. Robert was American and rich, so he had the spending cash to waste on importing sugary cereal which he ate when others were enjoying tea time. He ever offered to share with Arthur. If Arthur wanted lucky charms, he was out on his own.

"So this Eames, you two can properly meet," Arthur said. "Eames, this is Robert."

Robert nodded and gave Eames an eyebrow raise.

Eames simply shrugged. "Hello, Robert. It's so nice to meet you."

"Sure," Robert said. Arthur gave him a confused look. It wasn't like Robert to be rude in this way, even if he was the type to eat cereal on the sofa and barge into Arthur's room without knocking.

"So what's up?" Arthur asked in light of the awkwardness descending upon them.

Robert swallowed his latest spoonful. "I'm going go out of town next week."

"Where you going?" Arthur asked curiously. Robert traveled a lot.

"Just up North, meeting up with some friends, maybe meet some family...when was that's time you've see your family, Arthur?"

Arthur wrinkled his nose. He hadn't seen his brother in years but Robert didn't know about him and he hadn't seen his mother in months, not since school had started.

"It's been a while. Money is tight. I'm saving for the summer," he turned to Eames and explained: "My mother lives in America."

Eames smiled. Arthur was sure he was bored.

"Why not now?" Robert asked. "I thought you had winter plans to go home?"

Arthur shrugged, really not wanting to get into it and confused as to why Robert had the sudden interest. Eames rubbed his back and Arthur sent him a small smile.

He had a little money saved up; maybe he could afford his mother a ticket to come here and forgo the summer. With Robert out of town, there would be more space in the apartment for her.

Also, it's been years since his mother had been here, not since she met his father. Yeah, maybe he would call her and make plans.

 

 


End file.
